Lyrics 3 Sum (feat. Robb Bank$) - Robb Bank$ , DJ Scheme

Yo Bam, this a hit, big hit
Ayy Bam, this, this shit might be a hit right here
You know we thuggin', Broward County to the death, nigga
You already know, nigga, fuck that nigga
What? What?
Yeah, yeah, yeah

I like head, I like pussy
I like that mouth, but I don't like kissin'
I like threesomes and multiple bitches
I like Felicia, I like Genie
I like ridin' that bitch like a pony
I like to get my hands dirty 'bout my dodi
I know I make a bitch thick, let her suck me (Yeah)
Heard your wrist tickin' loud with that fake-ass Rollie, pussy

Whoa, whipped out a twelve inch,
Said that taste it like candy (Yeah, Mwah)
Whoa, how the fuck you walk past me
And you ain't 'bow down to me (Mwah)
Whoa, I get a lil' money and I can't
Even talk to these pussies (Yeah, Mwah)
Whoa, I seen a nigga dead in the streets, I can't say nothin', no

You got a jwett, don't cuff that shit
You lovin' that thot, don't cuff that bitch
I got yo' pension on my wrist
I could pay your tuition if I wave my hand
Need a bachelors degree, I'ma bachelor bitch
In her dorm room at UCF
Feel like B2K, shirt off, lil' fizz
I'm immature, baby, you know what it is
I feel like Marques Houston when I jump out of the car
Batman 'rarri, pullin' up like, "Eugh"
Leather jacket, Margiela like Fonzy
'Member when I was locked up in the Country
Mama threw all my pints down the toilet
And Officer Walsh keep lookin', tryin' to find me
So my lil' brother cry when we lost our granny
Turned BPSN when a nigga met manny
I can't talk to these niggas at all
If your 430, I'm tryna see a nigga ball
Ball, ball, ball, ball, ball that vibe
My ex post a story, I ain't watch at all
I done got tired to the Audi
A bitch gotta Rolls Royce truck me
Gave a Caribbean hoe that cock

I like head, I like pussy
I like that mouth, but I don't like kissin'
I like threesomes and multiple bitches
I like Felicia, I like Genie
I like ridin' that bitch like a pony
I like to get my hands dirty 'bout my dodi
I know I make a bitch thick, let her suck me (Yeah)
Heard your wrist tickin' loud with that fake-ass Rollie, pussy

Whoa, whipped out a twelve inch, said that taste it like candy (Yeah)
Whoa, how the fuck you walk past me and you ain't 'bow down to me
Whoa, I get a lil' money and I can't even talk to these pussies (Yeah)
Whoa, I seen a nigga dead in the streets, I can't say nothin', no